Punk Love
by AlyssaLies28
Summary: Words were never the way of a fighter; Yusuke and Kuwabara are no execption. So they speak the only way they can.


_Kuwabara and Yusuke. Their love isn't complex in the least. In fact, it's primal in its physicality._

"Hey," Yusuke said brusquely. He and Kuwabara were lounging on the sofa together watching TV as per usual after one of their more intense sparring sessions. Both were sprawled out comfortably, Kuwabara taking up quite a bit more cushion space than Yusuke with his larger, more heavily muscled frame. In response to Yusuke's abrupt attempt at starting a conversation, Kuwabara grunted and continued to flick through the stations at a rapid pace.

"Just wanted to say, I love ya," said Yusuke. Kuwabara stopped his channel surfing, the TV now playing a show about cars. Yusuke flinched at seeing the close up of an exposed engine. His aversion to cars had steadily grown to borderline paranoia in the past ten years since his first death by one. In that time he had managed to be ran over three more times and experience twelve near misses, so the fear was justly caused. The spasm of his heart had all to do with what was on the television and nothing with his sudden love confession, but Yusuke still felt it made the situation that much more dramatic.

Kuwabara stared straight at the TV, not really taking in what was on. Their topic of discussion wasn't a surprise for the lazing man on the couch. The strong feelings between the two of them were pretty obvious; never needing to be spoken aloud. Hell, they'd even cut off all romantic feelings to their girls years back. Still kept in regular touch with them as friends though. Yukina was due to have her first immaculate birth, which she was excited about. And Keiko was still in school for law, studying hard to kickass in the courts one day.

Ignoring the television, Yusuke continued on, not bothered by Kuwabara's lack of response. "Kurama told me I should tell you. In case you didn't know."

"Kurama's a busybody. And he sure as Hell doesn't understand everything."

"Well what the Hell's that mean?" Yusuke's gaze flickered to Kuwabara's relaxed face and back to the TV screen, calmed that his…well he didn't know how Kuwabara was his, but he was still Kuwabara. And Kuwabara wasn't ruffled, so he wasn't sweating it either.

"Means Kurama thinks he knows what's doing between us, but really he's got nothing."

Yusuke shied away from Kuwabara's words afraid that all he felt for the big man next to him meant something only for him. Something about having an emotionally unavailable, alcoholic mother put Yusuke in the awkward position of desperately wanting and needing affection, throwing himself carelessly into these situations, and panicking at the first signs of rejection. Usually when this panic started up, he would skip out for a while; spend a few years in the Makai fighting demons. Yusuke was just making a move to get up from the couch and disappear when Kuwabara swung his hand around and caught Yusuke upside his mouth with the back of his already bruised knuckles.

"Don't get all antsy on me. You did the same thing when you hugged Kurama on his 20th birthday and I didn't see you for the next 9 months. I almost thought you'd wound up pregnant by the show of affection, the way you acted. I'm not gonna meet any little Urameshi-Kurama hybrids am I? Cause I think I'd have to shoot myself if I had to deal with something that had your mouth and Kurama's wits. "

Yusuke snorted through the hands he held nursing his bleeding lip. Then he reared back his leg and smashed it into the place on Kuwabara's ribs where a nasty purple-blue bruise painted his skin. Kuwabara yelped at the counterattack, but quickly snagged Yusuke's ankle before the man could safely pull it back. Expecting to be thrown to the floor, Yusuke took his hands from his face and clung to the cushion beneath him. He was struck blind in the next second. Instead of the obvious move, Kuwabara shoved Yusuke's leg back toward the man, and he got to experience the sensation of his own knee ramming into his banged up nose, breaking the cartilage in one resounding _crack_.

"_Mother fucker_," Yusuke moaned. He lay in a daze against the armrest. Blood dribbled freely from both his nostrils, his nose set crookedly. Beside him, Kuwabara wore a look of concern, eyebrows scrunched up and mouth turned down in a frown.

"For a demon you break easily," Kuwabara muttered as he pushed himself from the couch. Yusuke was dimly aware of him walking into the kitchen. He heard the fridge being opened followed by a sharp rattling. When Kuwabara returned to kneel at Yusuke's head he held in his hands a rag full of ice and a wooden spoon.

"Hold this," he said, slipping the ice rag into Yusuke's limp hand, "Bite this." Kuwabara shoved the spoon into Yusuke's mouth. Yusuke's moaned in pain as his nose was jarred by the rough treatment. The moan morphed into a hiss when Kuwabara pinched his nose between the tip of his thumb and his finger. "Ready?"

Yusuke desperately wanted to franticly shake his head, but his nose was already on fire being stationary. Though the wooden spoon felt like it was drying out his mouth, he tucked his tongue under the portion in his mouth and chomped down with his teeth.

"Set," said Kuwabara. Before Yusuke could prepare himself in anticipation to the unavoidable pain, Kuwabara twisted his nose, a sickening grinding noise springing up, and shoved it back into its original place. Wooden shards dug into his gum as he snapped the spoon to pieces with the pressure of his clamped jaws. Despite his best efforts, tears spilled down his face as if the pain was drilling right into his tear ducts. Yusuke couldn't breathe for a beat. He was grateful that Kuwabara placed the hand holding the chilled rag against him nose.

"Me too," Kuwabara mumbled, sitting back on his heels, steadily looking away from Yusuke. Through the mind numbing fog of pain, confusion registered on Yusuke's mostly covered face.

"Huh?" he grunted, spitting out wood chunks.

Kuwabara, looking awkward, elaborated in clipped sentences. "You know. Uh, what you said. Earlier." He rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his loose curls. Heat pooled high on his cheeks, bringing out a pink hue. Avoiding Yusuke's still puzzled gaze, Kuwabara quickly leaned down; bumping his nose gently against the tip of Yusuke's injured one. "Me, too," he repeated as he pulled back, but remained hovering over Yusuke's prone form.

Understanding blossomed from the sting of pain the action cause and Yusuke smirked. With his unoccupied hand he reached out and brushed his palm alongside Kuwabara's battered ribs. The tremble of pain that racked Kuwabara's body sent a thrill of desire through Yusuke in the same way a soft kiss would. Only it was better because he could imagine every beating, every hit, no matter how playful or crippling, being a declaration of love. It was like Kuwabara was wearing an epic poem of their combined feelings whenever his body was drenched in broken bones and battered bruised. Yusuke could physically feel the constant serenade their continuous fighting carried.

In the background the engine of a car revved loudly as it raced against another on a track. Yusuke cringed at the noise. Laughing at Yusuke's reaction, Kuwabara shoved the man to the side and took a seat. Yusuke reclined back into his lap, grinning when the kinky haired ginger winced from the pressure it put on the large slash in his thigh. He felt his heart thudding in time to the pain in his nose as he picked up the remote control and quickly changed the channel, stopping when he saw the horror movie _Cats_ playing. It was Kuwabara's turn to recoil from the unpleasantness on the screen, Yusuke thought in revenge.


End file.
